


Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Best Drunk Decision He Ever Made

by Eien_Ni



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anakin you do not Instagram someone's life choices, M/M, bartender Obi-Wan, chef Jango, drunk decisions, someone take away Anakin's phone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26144206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eien_Ni/pseuds/Eien_Ni
Summary: He blinked, looked down at his plate, and blinked again. “Anakin,” he said slowly."Yes, Obi-Wan? Need an antacid due to all the spicy food?” Anakin grinned.Obi-Wan didn’t bother responding to the jibe. “I’m going to marry the chef.”
Relationships: (Past) Jango Fett/Satine Kryze, (Past) Obi-Wan Kenobi/Bail Organa, Asajj Ventress/Quinlan Vos, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 163
Kudos: 738





	1. I'm Going to Marry the Chef

**Author's Note:**

> I...have no excuse for this. Enjoy? *throws confetti*

Obi-Wan had been skeptical when Anakin dragged him to a restaurant that had recently opened. Obi-Wan liked order, liked routines. He had his favorite places to eat, favorite foods, and he rarely diverged from them.

Cin Vhetin was not a fancy restaurant, but neither was it casual like a fast food place. Cin Vhetin meant ‘fresh start’ in Mando’a, and Obi-Wan had heard that Mandalorian food could be quite spicy. He wasn’t fond of spicy foods, but neither was Anakin, and Anakin kept singing the food’s praises to Obi-Wan until, recognizing that he would have no rest until he did what Anakin requested, resigned himself to a night of heartburn.

Which was what led to this moment in time: Obi-Wan’s eyes closed in bliss as he gave an obscene moan around the forkful of noodles in his mouth.

“Obi-Wan, you’re my brother,” Anakin said, looking slightly disgusted, “I don’t need to hear the sound you make when you orgasm.”

Obi-Wan simply held up a finger, savoring the flavor, before swallowing and opening his eyes. “We, my dear Anakin, are not brothers. And for the record, that is not the sound I make when I orgasm.”

Anakin choked on his own food and quickly swallowed some of his water. “Obi-Wan!” He hissed.

“You brought it up.” Obi-Wan pointed his fork at Anakin and sniffed indignantly before turning back to his meal. “My God, I’ve never had food this good.”

“Don’t let Dex hear you say that.” Anakin snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Dex’s food is wonderful, but this is absolutely amazing.” Obi-Wan sighed happily.

“I suppose any food aside from yours is amazing - ouch!” Anakin yelped, leaning down to rub at his shin. “Why the fuck did you kick me? You know you’re awful at cooking.”

“Believe me, I am well aware of that fact,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “You never let me forget it.” He was used to the teasing that he received due to his lack of culinary skills. He did try to cook, but he wasn’t very good at it. One time while making mashed potatoes from the box, he mixed up the teaspoon and tablespoon. Needless to say, the potatoes had been extremely salty, and he was never allowed to cook for family dinners again. His family often said that he needed to marry someone who knew how to cook, otherwise he’d starve.

He blinked, looked down at his plate, and blinked again. “Anakin,” he said slowly.

“Yes, Obi-Wan? Need an antacid due to all the spicy food?” Anakin grinned.

Obi-Wan didn’t bother responding to the jibe. “I’m going to marry the chef.”

There was a brief pause before Anakin burst out laughing. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? You don’t even know who the chef is. What if you don’t think they’re attractive? What if they’re old or too young for you? What if they’re already married or have a partner?”

Obi-Wan waved away Anakin’s concerns. “Mark my words, Anakin Skywalker. I will marry that chef.”

“You’re starting to sound like me with that half-brained idea.”

“I highly doubt my plan will turn out to be anything like yours - running away to elope on your eighteenth birthday with Padmé, a woman five years your senior.”

“We were in love!” Anakin protested. “And we’ve been married for five years now, so I’d say we’re doing well.”

“I never said otherwise.”

They were interrupted by their waitress, smiling brightly at them. “How are you enjoying your meal? Everything okay?” She asked.

“Everything is perfect,” Obi-Wan said. “My compliments to the chef.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.” She smiled and hurried off to her next table.

“I’m surprised you didn’t mention your intent to marry him,” Anakin commented.

“All in due time, Anakin.”

**-0-0-**

Obi-Wan rolled his shoulders as he sank into a seat at the bar, sighing heavily. He was close to overtime, having had to pick up an extra shift for a coworker, so he’d been able to get off work earlier, and now he wanted to have a drink before going home.

“Usual, Obi-Wan?” Quinlan asked, and when Obi-Wan nodded, he turned to fix the drink.

A flurry of activity to his left made Obi-Wan nearly fall off his seat, only to scowl as Anakin sat down and grinned widely.

“Obi-Wan, thought you were still working. I was going to bother you by asking for my special drink.”

Groaning, Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands. “Nope, got off early. You can bother Quinlan for it.”

“Oh, my God, no.” Quinlan set Obi-Wan’s drink on the counter and scowled at Anakin. “I am not fixing any of your _special_ drinks for you.”

“But I’m a paying customer,” Anakin protested before smirking. “Did Obi-Wan tell you about Cin Vhetin?”

“The new restaurant?” Quinlan asked. “No. Was the food any good?”

“Make my drink, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Quinlan studied Anakin for a moment before looking at Obi-Wan, whose eyes were wide as he shook his head. “You’ve got a deal, Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan sighed as Anakin cheered. “I am never going to hear the end of this.”

“Apparently, Obi-Wan is so impressed with the food there,” Anakin began to explain, “that he’s going to marry the chef.”

Quinlan snorted. “That would be the day. Honestly, when was the last time you dated someone, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan blinked. “Probably Bail.”

“What the fuck?” Quinlan whirled on him. “Kenobi, that was nearly eight years ago!”

“I just haven’t found anyone worth my time,” Obi-Wan said. “Not everyone jumps from relationship to relationship like you do.”

“Hey, I’ve been with Asajj for…” Quinlan paused, calculating. “...I don’t know. It’s been a while.”

“Five months,” Obi-Wan sighed. “And before that it was Garen, and Reeft, and Luminara, and Fox, and -”

“I got the picture,” Quinlan grumbled as he pushed Anakin’s drink to him. “Seriously, though, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you mention marriage, even as a joke.”

“It was absolutely not a joke,” Obi-Wan muttered. “I am going to marry him.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan was about to retort when a deep voice asked, “Is this seat taken?”

Obi-Wan turned. A man, about the same height as himself, with warm brown skin, dark eyes, and curly black hair motioned to the barstool on his right. “Uh, no,” Obi-Wan stammered. “You can have it.” He idly wondered why the man was sitting beside him when there were several empty stools further away. He turned to Quinlan with a questioning look, who looked just as curious as Obi-Wan.

“Thanks.” The man’s voice was slightly accented, and Obi-Wan frowned as he tried to place it. “Name’s Jango.”

“Obi-Wan.” He shook the offered hand, Jango’s grip firm and calloused, and Obi-Wan swallowed hard. “Never seen you around here.”

“I just moved here a few months back,” Jango said. “Thought it was time for something different.”

“Welcome to Coruscant.” Obi-Wan held his glass up in a toast and smiled. Jango grinned back at him, and Obi-Wan felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach, which hadn’t happened since he’d met Bail all those years ago. Maybe he wouldn’t be leaving alone tonight.

**-0-0-**

Obi-Wan was drunk. There was no other way of putting it. He ordered another drink, flipping Quinlan off when the other man rolled his eyes. “I am enjoying my night off,” Obi-Wan insisted.

“You might be enjoying tonight, but I doubt you’ll enjoy your hangover tomorrow morning,” Quinlan retorted.

“There’s nothing wrong with having some fun every once in a while.” Obi-Wan turned to Jango, who was probably equally as drunk. “And what’s the occasion for you?”

“My restaurant did well for its opening week. Owning a restaurant is hard work, so I figured I’d have a night out and relax.”

“You own a restaurant?” Anakin poked his head around Obi-Wan. He, unlike the other two, was only tipsy. “Which one?”

“Cin Vhetin. I’m the chef.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, and he slammed his cup down on the counter, ignoring Quinlan’s protests about treating the glass with respect. “You.” He pointed at Jango. “Your food is amazing. Entirely orgasmic. I have never tasted anything quite like it.”

Was Jango blushing, or was it simply because he was drunk? Obi-Wan squinted. He was blushing, Obi-Wan was sure of it.

“Nothing that special,” Jango muttered.

Obi-Wan sputtered. “Excuse me, I have been to many restaurants -”

“That’s a lie,” Anakin interrupted. “He has like two that he frequents.”

“- and your food is the best.” Obi-Wan placed his hands on Jango’s shoulders and looked straight at him. “I want to marry you.”

Anakin nearly laughed himself off the stool while Quinlan stared, open-mouthed. Obi-Wan was never this forward, even when drunk.

“You want to marry me?” Jango repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. I swore I would marry the chef from Cin Vhetin, and I never break my word.” Obi-Wan nodded decisively. The butterflies were back, and he swallowed hard, clenching his hands together as he waited for a response.

“Sure.”

“Oh, my God, this is the best thing ever,” Anakin whispered as he pulled his phone out and snapped a picture. “I’m putting this on Instagram.”

Obi-Wan slid off of the stool, wobbling slightly, then turned to Quinlan. “I’m paying for Jango’s drinks. We’re getting married tonight.”

“Tonight? You move fast,” Jango said.

“No, he really doesn’t. It took him nearly a year to make a move on Bail,” Anakin snickered as he took another picture. Padmé was going to kill him for allowing Obi-Wan to go through with this, but he didn’t care. He had enough blackmail to last for years.

“Who’s Bail?”

“No one you need to worry about,” Obi-Wan said. “That was eight years ago. He’s happily married now.”

“Just like we will be in a few hours,” Jango grinned.

“Absolutely.” Obi-Wan linked their arms together and smiled at him. “Shall we call an Uber?”

Jango nodded, and Obi-Wan dug his phone out as the two of them began heading towards the door, leaving Anakin and Quinlan there.

“What the fuck just happened?” Quinlan asked.

“Obi-Wan I-am-terrified-of-commitment Kenobi is getting married.” Anakin grinned at his phone as he finished his latest Instagram post.

“They’re both drunk. Maybe we should stop them.”

“Are you kidding? Obi-Wan will get cold feet. Don’t worry. They’re not actually going to get married.” Anakin rolled his eyes.

Quinlan raised an eyebrow at Anakin’s nonchalance before sighing. The kid was probably right. In the morning, this would all just be an awful memory for Obi-Wan and blackmail for Anakin.


	2. I Want the Tax Benefits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg thank you all so very much for all the love this received! I was not expecting all these comments and kudos and bookmarks. Enjoy this next chapter!

There was a warm heavy weight over Obi-Wan’s waist when he woke up. He squinted, trying to remember last night. Anakin had been there. For the briefest moment, Obi-Wan panicked, but when he looked down, the skin tone didn’t match Anakin’s.

He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he and Anakin had not had a drunken one-night stand. That still left the question of whom he was in bed with.

Closing his eyes, he let his thoughts drift back to the night previous. Quinlan had been behind the bar. Anakin had shown up and told Quinlan about Cin Vhetin and Obi-Wan’s adamant statement that he was going to marry the chef.

Oh.

Oh, _fuck._

His eyes flew open, and he jerked his left hand into his line of sight, and there, nestled on the ring finger, was a gold ring.

“Oh, fuck,” he said aloud.

That finally stirred his bed partner, who groaned and seemed to press himself closer against Obi-Wan’s back. “Too fucking loud,” the man - Jango, Obi-Wan’s mind supplied helpfully - grumbled.

“I apologize, but it seems the two of us are in quite a predicament.”

Jango was quiet for a moment. “So we fucked. I wanted it. You wanted it.” His grip tightened on Obi-Wan’s waist. “Don’t tell me you’re married.”

“Actually,” Obi-Wan said, nearly hysterical, “it appears as though I am, my dear. Married to you, that is.”

Jango shoved away from Obi-Wan. “What the hell.”

“I did propose to you, and you said yes.”

“I said ‘sure,’” Jango growled.

“Which means yes,” Obi-Wan said.

They stared at each other for a long time before Jango sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I’m too hungover for this shit. I’m going to get dressed, make coffee, and then we can sit down and talk about this.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Do you have tea?”

“Fuck, no.” Jango rolled out of bed and, apparently unashamed of his nudity, headed over to the dresser and pulled out some clean clothes. He tossed them towards Obi-Wan then grabbed some for himself. “They might not fit the best, but they’re clean.”

“I - Yes, th-thank you,” Obi-Wan sputtered. His cheeks heated, and he ducked his head, turning away so that he could dress. Jango was an attractive man, he had to admit. His drunk self did have spectacular taste. It was really too bad that he didn’t remember last night. Their wedding night.

He stifled a laugh. He didn’t think Jango would appreciate it.

The sweatpants were just a bit short in the leg but otherwise were fine, and the shirt was comfortable enough.

“Bathroom is the door on the right,” Jango said, motioning in the direction. “I’m gonna make that coffee now.”

It was such a shame, Obi-Wan bemoaned as he watched Jango leave, that he had no recollection of last night. It had to have been fantastic sex. He sighed heavily and shook his head. He would worry about that later. Right now, there was a bigger concern.

He was married.

Dammit, why hadn’t Anakin, or Quinlan for that matter, stopped him? He buried his face in his hands. The ring was cool against his face, and he took it off, inspecting it carefully. It didn’t seem very expensive, but Obi-Wan was no jeweler. He’d have to see if he or Jango had paid for it.

His finger felt bare without the ring, and he hummed. Interesting. Sliding the ring back on, he headed for the bathroom. To the left of Jango’s bedroom, the door was closed. Obi-Wan wanted to snoop, but he didn’t think that was the best thing to do, so he turned into the bathroom.

After, he followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen. Jango was sitting at the table, cupping a mug of steaming coffee. He pointed to a second mug. “Wasn’t sure if you like coffee, since you asked for tea.”

“I normally drink tea, but in this case, I’m fine with coffee.” Obi-Wan sank into the chair and cautiously took a sip. The coffee was strong and hot enough to sear his taste buds off, but he didn’t mind. He flicked his gaze to Jango’s left hand. He was also still wearing the ring.

“So,” Jango began, clearing his throat, “we were obviously drunk last night.”

“That would be a safe assumption,” Obi-Wan said cautiously. Jango hadn’t threatened him, hadn’t kicked him out yet, so Obi-Wan had the hope that they could discuss this like civilized adults. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you? Otherwise, this would be really awkward.”

Jango snorted. “Divorced. And if I had been seeing anyone, they would have been with me at the bar.”

“True.” Obi-Wan hesitated, unsure how to phrase this next part before deciding to just plunge in. “Are you gay? Or bi, at least? It’s just you’re not freaking out about having fucked a man,” he hurried to explain when Jango raised an eyebrow.

“I was married to a woman, but you’re not the first guy I’ve fucked. Never really thought much about labels. If I was attracted to someone, that was what mattered.” Jango leaned back in his chair and stretched; Obi-Wan swallowed as he eyed the corded muscles in Jango’s arms, wishing he could remember having those arms holding him last night. “What about you?”

“Gay,” Obi-Wan replied and snapped his gaze back to Jango’s face. That was a mistake, since Jango wore a knowing smirk, as though he knew what had distracted Obi-Wan. “Definitely gay.”

“I don’t have to ask if you find me attractive, considering you’ve been watching me since we woke up.” Jango’s gaze roved over Obi-Wan’s face, down to his chest, an almost playful leer on his face. “I’m attracted to you, too.”

Obi-Wan frowned. This...was not the conversation he’d imagined. “I’m confused. I assumed you’d be asking for an annulment or divorce.”

Jango shrugged and began ticking reasons on his fingers. “We both find each other attractive. Neither of us is seeing anyone else. I just opened a restaurant. Do you know how expensive that shit is? I could use the tax benefits. The sex was great.”

“It was?” Obi-Wan asked, his head spinning because it sounded like Jango wanted to stay married. “I don’t remember last night.”

“It’s fuzzy,” Jango replied.

“So let me get this straight. You want us to stay married, even though we don’t know each other, because you want the tax benefits and the sex was great.”

“Unless you don’t want to stay married,” Jango said. “But you did say that you wanted to marry the chef from Cin Vhetin, which just so happens to be me.”

And that… Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands, counting backwards from twenty as he thought over his option. Honestly, what would it hurt to just remain married to Jango? There were plenty of benefits, sex being one of the perks he could immediately think of. Although…

Obi-Wan looked up. “You up for another round of sex? I think I need to refresh my memory before making my final decision.”

Jango drained his coffee, stood, and walked over to the sink to rinse out his mug. He held out his hand for Obi-Wan’s cup, and Obi-Wan handed it over, feeling a bit guilty over leaving half of it. But in his defense, he did prefer tea.

“Bedroom?” Jango tilted his head, lips quirking into a grin.

Obi-Wan’s mouth went dry. He stood up, moving right in front of Jango, and Jango was just a few inches shorter than him, and normally Obi-Wan liked taller guys. But Jango’s gaze was dark and heated, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but groan and lean down, pressing their lips together. They stayed like that for a while, Jango’s hands roving down Obi-Wan’s back, gripping his ass, before moving one hand to tangle in Obi-Wan’s hair. They parted, eyes wide, hardly any space between them, breathing the same air.

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan murmured. The kiss had been electric, and damn, if the sex was anything like that, then Obi-Wan would not be leaving Jango’s bed for hours. He didn’t protest when Jango gripped his wrist and dragged him back down the hallway.

He could get used to this.

**-0-0-**

An hour later, Obi-Wan lay curled up in Jango’s arms. It wasn’t weird, he reflected, to be cuddling with someone he hardly knew. His head was resting on Jango’s chest, Jango’s left hand carding gently through his hair. Obi-Wan’s own left hand was splayed almost possessively across Jango’s stomach.

“The sex is amazing,” Obi-Wan sighed, and he felt more than heard Jango chuckling.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “So what are you thinking?”

“Let’s stay married,” Obi-Wan said. “The benefits right now outweigh anything else, and we can always divorce later if we really want to.”

Jango’s fingers stopped, and Obi-Wan whined, butting his head against Jango’s hand to get him to resume stroking his hair. “There is one more thing you should be aware of,” Jango said slowly, “before you make your final decision.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “Don’t tell me. You’re a serial killer.”

“I have a kid. A son. Boba. He’s four. I have full custody. His mom didn’t want him.” There was a sharp edge to Jango’s voice, and Obi-Wan stroked his thumb over the skin of Jango’s belly, trying to soothe his obvious distress. “He’s a great kid, but supposedly he got in the way of her career and personal life. She’s the one who suggested having a kid. Looking back, I think it was more because all of her friends were starting a family, and she didn’t want to be left out.”

“That’s not the right reason to have children,” Obi-Wan whispered. “How awful. Is Boba doing okay? How long ago did you two divorce?”

“Two years ago. I stayed with my older sister Arla while I got my culinary degree, and then we moved here. Arla has her own apartment, but she watches Boba for me when she can. Otherwise, I take him to work with me.” Jango smiled sheepishly. “I have a child’s play pen in the corner of the kitchen where he stays. There’s nothing dangerous around that area, so he’s safe. He doesn’t really remember Satine. Occasionally, he’ll ask about mommy, but he stops when I say that it’s just me and him.”

“I’m not adverse to kids,” Obi-Wan said. “Anakin - he’s the friend I was with last night - and his wife Padmé have twins. Luke and Leia are three. So they’re just around Boba’s age. We could have playdates.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Jango shifted so that he was sitting against the headboard, and Obi-Wan did the same. This was a serious conversation after all. “My kid comes first, okay? I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’re like around kids, and - Fuck, this has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

Obi-Wan smiled. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jango’s lips. “I don’t mind the fact that you have a son. You love him, I understand. I promise I will never do anything to hurt him. Just let me know the rules so that he can’t pull a fast one on me and get away with something he’s not supposed to.”

Jango simply stared at Obi-Wan for a few seconds before grabbing him into a heated kiss. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” He asked.

“I’ve been told that by a few people,” Obi-Wan replied, laughing.

“Next order of business,” Jango said after another kiss. “Are we moving in together?”

“It would save on rent. I can’t imagine this apartment is cheap because mine isn’t, and it only has one bedroom. The only thing is how far away from my work is it?”

“It took me about twenty minutes to drive there.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “Oh, so it’s closer than my apartment. That’s always a plus.”

“There’s one more benefit.” Jango shoved Obi-Wan to the bed and straddled him. “Sex whenever we want it.”

“Oh, I like that benefit the most,” Obi-Wan purred, pupils dilating as Jango leaned down. They could discuss the rest later. They were, after all, on their honeymoon.


	3. How to Tell Your Family You Got Married

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kudos and comments this fic is getting makes me so happy. Honestly, I wasn't expecting this much since it's just a stupid idea I thought of. Thank you all so much!!
> 
> Also, I apologize if you're a fan of Satine. She is not portrayed favorably in this story, but it's an AU, so. *shrugs*

“Uncle Obi! Uncle Obi!”

Obi-Wan laughed and knelt down, opening his arms to hug Leia. “Hello, how are you?”

“Did you bring me presents?” Leia demanded instead of answering.

“Maybe I did,” Obi-Wan said, grinning mischievously. He pulled out a small piece of chocolate and showed it to her. “You’ll have to ask your mommy and daddy if you can have this after dinner, okay?”

“Okay!” She chirped, giving him one last squeeze before darting away.

“No running, Leia,” he called out to her, rolling his eyes as she only giggled. He rose to his feet and followed Leia to the kitchen. “Anakin, hello.”

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin grinned. He was dishing out mashed potatoes into a bowl. “How are you feeling after last night? I bet you had a massive hangover this morning.”

“It...wasn’t so bad,” Obi-Wan said, thinking back to how he’d spent a few hours tangled up with Jango in bed.

“I hope things weren’t too awkward last night when you got cold feet before getting married to Chef Jango?” Anakin wiggled his eyebrows, grinning.

“Ah, no, last night wasn’t awkward,” Obi-Wan said and hid his left hand in the pocket of his jeans. The morning had been awkward instead, but after he and Jango had talked things through, there had been an easiness to their conversation.

“Oh, my God, Obi-Wan!” Padmé said as she came into the kitchen carrying Luke. “I saw the Instagram posts that Anakin made, and I am so sorry about that. Honestly, you’d think that he would have grown up by now since he has two kids.”

“No need to worry about it, Padmé.” Obi-Wan smiled warmly at her. He crossed over to her and tapped Luke’s nose, who giggled.

“Uncle Obi brought chocolate!” Leia announced.

Padmé set Luke on the floor, and Obi-Wan knelt down. He took out the pieces of chocolate, one in each hand, and held them out. “Make sure you wait until Mommy and Daddy say you can have it.”

“Thank you,” Luke said as he took a piece. He paused and poked at the ring on his finger. “What’s that?”

Padmé gasped and grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrist. “Obi-Wan, is that - Oh, my God! Did you actually get married?”

“What?” Anakin nearly dropped the bowl as he gaped at Obi-Wan. “I didn’t think you were serious last night!”

“I didn’t realize I was either until this morning,” he replied wryly.

“Why are you wearing the ring?” Padmé asked then squeaked. “Wait, are you staying married?”

“Obi-Wan, you don’t even know the guy! Only you would end up married to a random guy. He could be a serial killer for all you know!” Anakin exploded. He dragged a hand through his hair and groaned.

The three adults stared at each other until Obi-Wan looked down, distracted by Luke tugging on his pant leg.

“Yes, Luke?”

“I like cereal,” Luke said seriously, and that made them all start laughing.

“How about we discuss this when Double Trouble are in bed?” Anakin suggested.

Padmé patted his cheek and grinned. “You can be smart when you put your mind to it. Help me get the food to the table, and then we can eat.”

“I’m always smart,” Anakin grumbled but did as his wife said.

**-0-0-**

After Luke and Leia were given goodnight hugs and kisses and tucked into bed, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padmé settled onto the couch in the living room, wine glasses in hand. Padmé motioned for Obi-Wan to sit between her and her husband, and he did so, sighing.

“Ask away,” Obi-Wan said, waving a hand.

Padmé cleared her throat. “First question. Are you two actually married?”

“Yes, we have the marriage certificate, and everything is in order. We double checked this morning.”

“Second question,” Padmé continued. “Why are you staying married? Do you even know anything about him?”

“My dear Padmé, I believe you just asked two questions, but since they relate to each other, I’ll answer.” Obi-Wan looked down at his glass, swirled the wine around, and wondered if he could get drunk quickly enough to avoid any more prying questions. He dismissed the idea. Anakin and Padmé were simply looking out for him.

“Jango and I are consenting adults. Yes, we drunkenly got married, and I expected a disastrous argument this morning. However, Jango was calm about the whole ordeal, and as we talked things through, we realized that there are benefits to staying married. As for the second part, I know that he’s a chef who recently opened his own restaurant. He’s been divorced for two years and has full custody of his four year old son, Boba, who is watched by his older sister.”

“Oh, my God,” Anakin yelped. “Obi-Wan, you realize that makes you a stepfather, right?”

“Yes, I do. Next question.”

The younger man whined. “That wasn’t supposed to be my question. I get another one since Padmé got two and a half. What kind of benefits are there to being married to a guy you don’t know?”

“We discovered three reasons. Tax benefits, for one. Cheaper rent. And yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupted when Anakin opened his mouth, “I am moving into Jango’s apartment.”

“What’s the third reason?” Anakin asked curiously.

Obi-Wan smirked and drained his glass before answering. “The sex is fucking fantastic.” He couldn’t stop laughing when Anakin spat a mouthful of wine all over the floor, much to Padmé’s dismay.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin whined, making a disgusted face.

“You asked,” Obi-Wan replied.

“I can’t believe that you’re not rushing to get this annulled,” Padmé said thoughtfully, smiling at Anakin as he went to grab some paper towels to clean up the wine. “Isn’t that why you and Bail broke up? He wanted marriage and you didn’t?”

Wincing, Obi-Wan stared at his empty glass. “Possibly. Bail and I just had...different priorities.”

“Marriage and kids,” Anakin said when he came back into the room. “You said no to both of them.”

“And now you agreed to both. I’m not trying to belittle you or your choices, Obi-Wan,” Padmé said, resting a hand on his arm, “I’m just confused. Is this something that you can explain to help us understand?”

“I honestly don’t understand it entirely myself,” Obi-Wan gestured helplessly to himself. “What I had with Bail - it was good. I mean, we were together for four years before things went south, and I know a lot of the blame lies with me. Instead of communicating with him, I shut him out, resulting in the break-up of our relationship. I thought that things would change between us if we got married. I suppose I was expecting him to leave like all the others, and to me, it felt like it would hurt less if we weren’t married when he did leave. Less messy, no divorce or anything like that. Kids would have complicated things, too, with custody arrangements. I just wanted a nice clean break when our relationship inevitably ended.”

Padmé leaned over and hugged Obi-Wan, surprising him. He wasn’t always the most tactile of people, but he accepted the hug and even returned it.

“If you really want to stay married to him, then Anakin and I will both support you. We’re here for you, Obi-Wan. Please don’t ever forget that.” She kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, what Padmé said.” Anakin stood, giving the floor a critical look; there didn’t seem to be any wine that he’d missed, so he tossed the paper towels into the trash can. “But I draw the line about you talking about your sex life. You can talk to Quinlan about that.” He shuddered.

“Thank you ever so much for your support,” Obi-Wan drawled, rolling his eyes. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“We want you to be happy,” Padmé said simply.

“I know,” Obi-Wan whispered, a genuine smile gracing his lips. For all that Obi-Wan complained about them - specifically Anakin - he knew that he could count on them to be there when it mattered the most.

**-0-0-**

“Buir!”

Jango braced himself as Boba ran headlong into him and latched on, tiny arms wrapped tightly around his legs. “Hey, Boba.” He leaned down and, managing to pry Boba loose, picked him up. He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Were you good for ba’vodu Arla?”

“I’m always good,” Boba declared, and Jango glanced towards Arla for confirmation.

“He didn’t want to go to bed last night, but that was the only issue.” Arla folded her arms across her chest and gave Jango an appraising look. “You look like you had a good night.”

Jango rolled his eyes, setting Boba down as he began to wiggle. “Go play while we talk, Boba.” He waited until his son was out of earshot before sighing. “Ask what you really want to ask, Arla.”

“Did you get laid? You don’t seem as tense as you did yesterday.” She held up her hands in mock surrender when he glared at her. “I’m just trying to encourage you, Jango. You’ve been working hard ever since you and Satine split two years ago. I know you felt guilty about Boba spending the night with me, but honestly, I don’t mind having him around, especially if it means that you get some time to yourself.”

Jango pinched the bridge of his nose. Arla was going to be in hysterics by the time he was finished telling her about the events of last night and that morning. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I did meet someone last night. However,” he tried to continue over Arla’s excited shrieking, “it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Immediately sobering, Arla stepped closer, eyes worried. “Were they married but didn’t tell you? Do I have to hunt someone down and end them?”

“They didn’t start out married at the beginning of the night,” Jango hedged. He was never going to live this down.

Arla wrinkled her nose. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Will you just stop being so cryptic and tell me what is going on before I - Oh, my God! Jango, what the fuck did you do?”

Jango had lifted up his left hand, showing off the ring. “I got married last night while I was drunk.”

“Why the fuck are you still wearing the ring? Are they refusing to get a divorce or annulment?”

Reaching forward, Jango clapped a hand over Arla’s mouth. “Udesii! If you stop talking, I can explain.” He waited until she nodded before removing his hand. “His name is Obi-Wan. He works at the bar I went to. He’d just gotten off when I arrived and was having drinks with a friend. I thought he was attractive when I first saw him, so I sat next to him. We started talking. He found out I own Cin Vhetin and apparently, my food is orgasmic, and he was determined to marry the chef. So he asked me to marry him. I said sure. The rest of the night is fuzzy, but I woke up this morning with a ring on my finger and a piece of paper saying we’re married. We talked things over and decided to stay married.”

“Jango, you swore you’d never get married again after Satine,” Arla said, “and now you’re married to some stranger? You know nothing about him. Does he know about Boba? Does he like kids? What if he hurts Boba?”

“Arla! One question at a time.” Jango groaned and rubbed his forehead. He had a headache, her rapid-fire speaking only intensifying the pain. He held up a finger as he answered the questions she’d asked. “I believe my exact wording was that I would never marry another woman. If you’d been listening, I do know some things about Obi-Wan, so it’s not true to say I know nothing about him. I did tell him about Boba, and he’s fine with it. His friend and his wife have twins who are three. He showed me some pictures and videos of them together.”

Jango shook his head, recalling Obi-Wan’s background on his phone. It was a picture of him lying on a couch with two toddlers sprawled on top of him, asleep. It was honestly one of the most heartwarming scenes Jango had ever seen. And the other pictures and videos… Obi-Wan interacted with his friend’s kids so well, and it made Jango think of how Satine had barely given Boba the time of day. Her own flesh and blood, and she ignored him unless it suited her purposes, showing what a great buir she was. Even then, she always looked irritated at having to take care of him.

That didn’t seem to be the case for Obi-Wan. From what little Jango could tell from what he’d seen, Obi-Wan appeared to genuinely love the twins.

“So you’re going to let a stranger watch Boba?”

“Arla.” Jango took hold of her hands and stared at her. “I know you’re worried. You’re right, I don’t know much about him. I am trusting him. And just so you know, he offered to send in for his criminal records so I could see for myself. When you meet him, and you will at some point, I think you’ll understand.”

Arla sighed, squeezing his hands. “This has got to be the most insane thing you’ve ever done, and you married Satine.”

Jango winced. Arla had tried to warn him about Satine, but he’d been stubborn, refusing to listen. He’d been in love, or so he’d thought at least, and had been sure that love was all that was necessary. Unfortunately, he’d been wrong, and their marriage had dissolved.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said softly, “but I’m here for you. I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Vor entye.” He returned the embrace, hoping that he wouldn’t regret this decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buir - parent  
> Udesii - calm down, take it easy  
> Vor entye - thank you (lit. I accept a debt)


	4. The Beginning of a New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I started back to work, which stressed me out to the point where I didn't feel like writing. But I finished this today, so here you go *shoves the chapter at you*
> 
> WARNING: there are mentions of child neglect when Jango talks about when he was married to Satine. It begins at: "He'd wanted children..." and ends with "Obi-Wan was quiet..." which is 8 paragraphs down.

Obi-Wan was nervous. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, drawing in a deep breath. He was standing outside of Jango’s apartment, five minutes early. Today, two days after marrying Jango, he and Boba were meeting for the first time.

Even though he and Jango had decided to remain married, this was the real test. If Boba didn’t like Obi-Wan, then that was it.

Obi-Wan knocked on the door before he could lose his nerve and stepped back to wait. It wasn’t long before the door opened and Jango appeared. He glanced back, towards where the living room was if Obi-Wan remembered correctly, then grabbed Obi-Wan by the front of the shirt and dragged him into the apartment before yanking him into a kiss.

Obi-Wan felt like the breath was knocked right out of him, not having expected that welcome. Surprised, he stood still for a moment before enthusiastically responding. He curled a hand around the back of Jango’s neck, fingers twining in the short dark curls at the nape of his neck, and he slid his tongue across Jango’s lips. That elicited a low growl from the older man, and he pushed his tongue into Obi-Wan’s mouth.

The kiss ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving Obi-Wan breathless as he sagged back against the door, eyes closed. He felt Jango gently knock their foreheads together.

“That was quite the greeting,” Obi-Wan murmured. He opened his eyes, staring into Jango’s dark gaze.

Jango chuckled, a rich low sound that sent shivers down Obi-Wan’s spine. “Isn’t that how husbands are supposed to greet each other after being separated for a while?”

Blushing, Obi-Wan ducked his head. Husbands. That was going to take a while to get used to. “It’s only been two days.”

Jango’s eyes glittered with mischief as he pressed against Obi-Wan. “So I was the only one looking forward to this?” He mouthed up Obi-Wan’s neck to his ear, nipping at the lobe.

“I - I didn’t say that,” Obi-Wan stammered. Jango was making it extremely difficult to think. “I just -” A flash of movement caught his attention, and he glanced over to see a young boy standing there. “Your son is watching.”

Jango pulled away, albeit reluctantly, going over and scooping Boba into his arms. “Boba, this is Obi-Wan. He’s my riduur.”

Boba turned large dark eyes to Obi-Wan. “Are you my new buir?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan hesitated as he looked to Jango, who just looked back with a calm expression. “I suppose that I am. You don’t have to call me buir, though. You can call me ba’vodu.”

Boba shook his head stubbornly. “No, you’re Obi’buir,” he declared.

Obi-Wan realized quickly that he wasn’t going to win that argument, and besides, he didn’t want to upset Boba, who was perhaps missing his mother more than Jango thought. “Okay, Obi’buir.”

“Come see my room,” Boba demanded as he tugged on Obi-Wan’s hand.

Laughing, Obi-Wan smiled at Jango. “I do believe I’m being kidnapped.”

Jango waved a hand at him. “Go on. Boba is still excited about his new room. He hasn’t been able to show it to anyone aside from Arla, my sister.”

Obi-Wan followed Boba down the hallway and into his bedroom, which he recognized as the room which had been closed off the last time he’d been here. The walls and ceiling of Boba’s bedroom were a dark blue, with yellow stars painted on in shapes of constellations. Obi-Wan marveled at the time that must have taken to painstakingly research and then paint them. The floor was a dark gray wood, which would be easier to clean than carpet, Obi-Wan surmised, and his tiny bed was shaped like a rocket ship, a rug designed to look like the moon underneath the bed.

He was jerked from his musings when Boba shoved a toy in front of his face and began to introduce his favorite toys. Obi-Wan spent the next thirty minutes with Boba, heart melting when the boy allowed him to play with his ‘most favoritest’ action figure, an astronaut with a blue and silver spacesuit.

Footsteps came down the hallway and paused in the doorway. Obi-Wan looked up to see Jango leaning against the frame with his arms folded across his chest. His heated gaze rested on Obi-Wan, who shivered as he wondered why Jango was so intense.

“Any particular reason why you’re looking at me like that?” Obi-Wan asked, amused.

“You’re good with Boba,” Jango murmured. “That’s…” He drew in a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at Obi-Wan again. “His birth buir was never that attentive with him.”

Obi-Wan rose to his feet and crossed over to Jango, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

Jango was quiet for a moment as he watched Boba. “That would probably be best.” Stepping back, he motioned for Obi-Wan to follow him to the kitchen. Once there, he busied himself with making coffee.

Obi-Wan waited patiently. It was obvious that it was a sore topic for him. Jango would talk when he was ready. After Jango pressed a cup of coffee into Obi-Wan’s hands, he began to speak.

Jango and his dar’riduur Satine had met ten years ago at a political function. Satine had been an up and coming politician while Jango was an aide to another politician. He’d quickly become smitten with her - her sharp wit, stunning beauty. She had never been once to mince words, never afraid to let someone know what she really thought. It had been refreshing to see in the political world where nearly everyone else said one thing and then did another. They had dated for nearly half a year before he’d asked her to marry him. She’d agreed, and on the one year anniversary of their first date, they’d married, despite Arla pleading with him to reconsider.

Nearly a year after that, Jango had decided that he’d had enough of the political game and quit in order to pursue his first love of cooking. He’d grown tired of the constant backstabbing and gossiping and corruption that was prevalent. Much to Satine’s chagrin, he’d accepted a job at a restaurant as a server. It had been his hope that he would be able to rise in the ranks and become a manager, whether of that restaurant or a different one.

He’d wanted children, and Satine had kept delaying it, saying that she wanted to focus on her career or they needed to save up more money, something she said nearly every day after he quit his job as a political aide. She’d been the one to bring up finally having a baby, since he didn’t want to pressure her and was letting her decide, and within a year, they were celebrating Boba’s birth.

At first, he’d thought Satine had postpartum depression when she interacted very little with Boba, and he’d carefully voiced his concerns, wanting her to get the help that she needed as quickly as possible. She’d assured him that she wasn’t depressed, and watching her closely, he’d agreed with her. 

It had often been Jango who woke up during the night to Boba’s cries, who soothed him, fed him, changed him, rocked him to sleep. He hadn’t minded at first. Satine had, after all, carried Boba for nine months. Jango did whatever he could to ensure that Satine was able to recover fully. As the months had passed, though, Jango had begun to notice that the only times Satine seemed to pay attention to Boba was when they were in public or had friends over. If it was just the three of them, she basically ignored Boba.

The final straw had been shortly before Boba had turned two. Jango had just gotten home on a Saturday from a double at the restaurant he managed. Boba had been fussy that morning with a low-grade temperature, which Jango had thought was due to teething. He’d mentioned it to Satine, who had waved it off with the promise that she’d keep an eye on him.

As soon as Jango had entered their apartment, he’d heard Boba whimpering, and, concerned, he’d gone to check on him. He wasn’t proud of the language he used upon finding that Boba was hot to the touch and had sweated through his clothing. Satine, meanwhile, had been fast asleep, hardly stirring when Jango shook her and demanded to know if she’d given Boba any medication or called the doctor.

Nearly frantic, Jango had gathered Boba up, grabbed his diaper bag, and rushed off to the emergency room. Boba, as it had turned out, had an ear infection, and Jango had gotten medicine and instructions before heading back home. He’d been exhausted by the time he finally got Boba settled back in his crib, but he’d sat in the rocking chair by the crib and dozed, waking himself up every half hour to check on Boba.

Jango hadn’t even asked Satine for an explanation, simply said that he wanted a divorce and full custody of Boba, which she’d given without a fight. He’d then packed his and Boba’s belongings and moved in with Arla while he finished getting his culinary degree. Boba had recovered in time, with no complications, and their new life began.

Obi-Wan was quiet when Jango finished talking. There were tears in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck. “You’re an amazing buir, Jango. I can tell that you love Boba very much. He’s lucky to have you as a buir.”

Jango said nothing for a moment. He simply returned the embrace, arms wrapping around Obi-Wan’s waist, and held him closely. “Thank you,” he rasped.

The two remained that way for a time, and Obi-Wan wondered at how he could feel so at ease with a near stranger, husband or not. Perhaps he only felt that way because he was lonely. Aside from Anakin and his small family and a few friends (Obi-Wan could count them all on one hand), he had no one else.

Whatever the case, Obi-Wan was content to hold Jango until he said otherwise. Jango pulled away just enough to press their foreheads together, and Obi-Wan smiled. “Hello, there,” he murmured.

“Hey,” Jango replied. “You have tonight off, right?” He continued at Obi-Wan’s nod. “I have to be at Cin Vhetin for 11 AM. Arla is coming over to watch Boba unless…” He trailed off, waiting for Obi-Wan to fill in the blank.

“Jango,” Obi-Wan said, cupping his face with his hands, “I would be delighted to watch Boba for you until you get home tonight.”

The relief was evident on Jango’s face, and he gave Obi-Wan a quick kiss. “You’re welcome to spend the night, too. I have some spare clothes you can borrow.”

Obi-Wan flushed and ducked his head. “I may have packed a small bag in case that offer was open. I left it in my car because I didn’t want to assume.”

Jango laughed. “You’ll be moving in here at some point, so you might as well just start leaving things here. Go get your bag, cyare. I’ll call Arla and let her know the change in plans.”

“I’ll be right back, dear,” Obi-Wan promised. He quite liked the pet names they had given to each other already. It helped to make the unusual situation feel more normal, like he and Jango had known each other for years and fallen in love.

It was way too early to be thinking about love, Obi-Wan decided, but Jango offered companionship and stability, two things that Obi-Wan sorely missed. And Boba had seemed to take a liking to him, as well. Perhaps this marriage wasn’t as doomed as everyone thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riduur - spouse  
> Buir - parent  
> Ba'vodu - aunt/uncle  
> Obi'buir - used as a away to differentiate since buir is used for both mother/father  
> Dar'riduur - ex-spouse  
> Cyare - beloved


End file.
